Suit Up and Show Up, Yo.

Hey, what I love about the good 'ol USA is that we can wear what we want, where we want, when we want. Flip flops at Christmas dinner? Pass the peas, please. A baby doll t-shirt at the company retreat? Love the Hooters knock off, Trisha, and what do you think about starting an office recycling program? A midrif-baring haltertop at Aunt Bernice's funeral? Well...maybe just stick to the back pews at the Church, Ariel.
Now that's progressive. But I will admit, under extreme duress, (like, now) that I set the women's movement back about 50 years when I put on a certain tiiiiyyyght shirt that shows every curve. Or a certain pair of jeans that causes traffic jams and a possible yeast infection. Because these clothes make up the uniform that says, I want to get laid. Dammit. Now, that doesn't mean that my wearing the outfit means you automatically got the fast lane pass to Arieldise. Think of it more like you're at the grocery store and a new checkout lane just opened up. You may not be first in line, but you'll move a lot quicker!